


Coming Clean

by opalmatrix



Category: Black Lagoon
Genre: Alcohol, Boss/Employee Relationship, Drunk Sex, Friends With Benefits, Hand Jobs, M/M, Shower Sex, new kid in town
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 02:56:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/232996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a long way from Miami to Roanapur, and Benny's still not feeling comfortable as a member of the <i>Lagoon</i> crew.  Dutch decides to give him a hand.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coming Clean

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Shay (Shayheyred)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shayheyred/gifts).



> **Prompt:** " ... would I love a story about Benny's past -- how did he turn from the Nice Jewish Boy in Florida into a member of the Black Lagoon crew in the South China Sea? Slash works for me, as would his physical relationship with ANY of the Lagoon's crew." Beta by the intrepid **[smillaraaq](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/pseuds/Smillaraaq)** and **[helliongoddess](http://archiveofourown.org/users/helliongoddess/pseuds/helliongoddess)**.

The noise level in the Yellow Flag was up to eleven tonight. Benny could hardly hear Supachai's explanation of how he'd obtained the shipment of stolen hard drives that Lagoon was supposed to pick up. He wasn't sure why Dutch had wanted him in on this conversation anyway: aside from asking the other smuggler some questions about how the drives were packed, there was nothing Benny could add to the plans. He swallowed the last of his current beer and tried to rub his temples as surreptitiously as possible.

Supachai finally ran out of things to babble under Dutch's blank stare. Dutch nodded and held out his hand for a handshake. "We'll be there, mister. No problem."

Dutch turned to Benny as their contact vanished into the crowd. "What's up, Benny-boy?"

He should have known that Dutch wouldn't miss a thing, even though the light in the place was terrible, and Dutch was wearing his sunglasses, as always. "I just don't think I was much help."

Dutch signaled for a waiter. "That was a good question about the packaging. We don't need to be wasting our time picking up a load of damaged goods."

"You probably would have thought of it yourself."

Dutch gave him a long look. Benny tried to give it back - politely.

"Second thoughts, Benny?" Dutch growled, at last.

"What the hell good am I to Lagoon, anyway?"

The waiter squirmed his way through the crowd to their table. "You need another beer. Maybe something stronger, too," Dutch said to Benny. He ordered another lager plus two double shots and waited until the man was headed away to the bar. Then he leaned toward Benny and gave him a stony look. "I don't need whining in this crew, Benny. Revy pulled you out of a tough spot and brought you in 'cause she thought you might be useful. I thought the same, but neither of us has time to wipe your nose if you're not up for it."

Benny was under no illusions about what would become of him if he left Lagoon Traders under a cloud. He tapped his fingers absently on the tabletop. "Dutch, when you walk down the street here, chances are no one's going to want to mess with you. And you sure as hell don't need to worry about Revy. But ... I'm no kind of fighter. I'm just wondering whether I'm a liability to you all."

Dutch's face relaxed just that little bit needed to turn his look from threatening to thoughtful. "The _Lagoon_ 's engines are purring like healthy kittens since you worked them over. That new radio set-up works like a champ. Balalaika thinks you're hot shit since you set up that Internet connection for them - says you're polite, too. She's a tough lady to please. As far as your street cred here goes -- ." He broke off as the waiter arrived with the drinks and set them up, then picked up again without a hitch when the man left again: "-- that's just a matter of time. A boy that had the Mafia and the FBI both after him _and got away without a scratch_ is not some stupid punk. And pretty soon, people are gonna know that you're _our_ boy. No one will want to mess with you then. Now, drink up. You're too damn sober."

The beer went down easily. The double whisky was more of a challenge. Benny had chugged his share of illegally obtained beers in college, but he'd never had to keep up with serious drinkers like Dutch and Revy until he'd arrived in Roanapur. The drink hit the bottom of his gut and swirled around, warm and glowing. The sound of the crowd swelled and faded again and again, like the surf on the beaches south of Roanapur. Benny squinted, trying to get his bearings, and for a second saw Revy at her card game in the corner, laughing and tossing back her latest glass of rum like it was lemonade on a hot day. And it _was_ hot, too hot. He mopped his forehead with a bar napkin and had to fight to keep his head off the table.

"All right now," said Dutch, standing beside him. "Time to go."

He slipped one arm around Benny, so Benny's arm was around his shoulders, and hoisted him out of the chair. The lights of the Yellow Flag dipped and swayed and spun, and Benny was very glad that he had Dutch to hold him up. The crowd made way for them, and soon they were out on the street. The night breeze off the bay hit his face, and Benny felt his head clear - just a bit. "Hey, where are we going, Dutch?"

"My place. Revy's gonna be all night - she was winning."

"My stuff's at the Reef View."

"Anything you really need tonight?"

Dutch's body against him was hot and hard with muscle, and Benny found he didn't mind it at all. "N-no, I guess not."

They continued on toward the blocks of businesses and warehouses near the docks, where Dutch had his apartment behind the Lagoon Traders office. Benny tripped and stumbled at the end of a pothole, and Dutch basically picked him up and set him back on his feet. "Damn, you're strong, Dutch."

"I sure am, Benny-boy. Nothing's gonna happen while I've got my eye on you."

The pavement seemed to be shifting under his feet, but Benny worried about it less now that he knew Dutch would catch him if he fell. His arm felt kind of nice around Benny's shoulders. "Hey, are we there yet?"

"Almost, son. Just a few more steps."

There was a door. And a flight of very scary steps. It all looked vaguely familiar. Another door, and he recognized their office. And back behind the big filing cabinet was _another_ door. And that was the apartment.

Dutch locked the door and went to the kitchenette at the other end of the room, where he rummaged around in the fridge. "Sit down, make yourself at home," he said, over his shoulder. Benny looked around. There was a sofa and a big comfy chair, both covered in cloth with pale stripes, and a white dinette table with four matching chairs. It all looked much too classy and clean for Benny's sweat-drenched clothes to touch, to tell the truth.

"I think I need a shower," he said, finally. Dutch was pouring a couple of big glasses of bottled water, but he looked up. "Sounds good. Come drink a glass of water and have some aspirin - heads off the hangover. And then I'll scrub your back for you."

Benny had actually made it to the table and swallowed the aspirin and half the water before the last part of Dutch's suggestion computed. "You'll ... _what?_ "

Dutch was chugging his water like a beer. He put his glass in the sink and smiled at Benny. Benny didn't think he'd ever seen Dutch really smile before. "Go on, drink the rest of your water. Your gut's got enough to do without dealing with straight aspirin. Look after your gut, and it'll look after you. Learned that the hard way."

Benny obediantly put the glass to his lips again and swallowed. Dutch put one arm around him again and steered him out of the front room. "C'mon. Bathroom's over here."

 _This is a bad idea, isn't it?_

But if it were a bad idea, that would mean he couldn't trust Dutch. And that broke _everything_ to pieces.

The bathroom was a lot like the rest of the place: white, but with gleaming chrome. The tub was full sized - not like the skimpy tubs in most of the Roanapur hotels. They could both fit in there - standing up, anyway. Dutch turned on the water and started stripping off his vest and tank top. There were some dark, shiny scars that stood out on his deep brown skin, and the bulging plates of his pecs were ornamented with small purplish nipples. Benny plucked aimlessly at the buttons of his own Hawaiian shirt, looking at him, and finally placed his glasses on the edge of the sink and took the shirt off over his head instead, an operation that left him staggering. He dropped the shirt on the floor and grabbed for the towel bar. Dutch laughed at him. "Hold on, Benny-boy - that tile's mighty hard if you crack your head against it."

Dutch kicked off his boots and shucked out of his pants and socks, leaving him in boxer-briefs that left nothing to the imagination, despite Benny's now-fuzzed vision: he was hard. He leaned over to check the water temperature: his ass was trim and tight. Benny's mouth was unaccountably dry, and he slowly undid his chinos and let them drop. Dutch turned around and grinned. "Keep goin', Benny-boy."

Benny slowly took off his boxers, balancing precariously on one leg and then the other, still clutching the towel bar. He was embarrassed and surprised to find himself half hard. Dutch flicked a glance at Benny's crotch before peeling off his skivvies. Benny couldn't help but look. He was mildly surprised to see that Dutch was circumcised too. Dutch raised his eyebrows, still smiling, and then put one foot up on the edge of the tub and casually scratched his balls, making his big hard-on waggle. "No worries, Benny. It's just us dudes in here. Step on into the tub - water's fine."

It was, too. It was hardly warmer than his skin, refreshing him, helping relieve the headache that he hadn't felt until it started to fade away. Dutch was puttering around in the bathroom: he seemed to be gathering their clothes into a stack. Then he stepped into the shower behind Benny and - as promised - started to scrub his back.

Benny gave a surprised little grunt: he'd pretty much made up his mind that Dutch was bullshitting him about the scrub. But sure enough, a soapy washcloth was being rubbed around methodically, first on the back of his neck under his wet hair, then over his shoulders, and down the middle of his back. It felt so good, and the rousing scent of genuine Lifebuoy soap was everywhere. Benny braced his arms on the tile, his head bowed under the spray, and Dutch continued on down his spine, stopping just short of Benny's buttocks. Then he must have knelt down back there, because the washcloth rubbed on the tops of Benny's feet, then his ankles, up his calves, gently on the backs of his knees, then nice and firm on the backs of his thighs.

And then the rough, soapy cloth was on Benny's ass, firmly circling each asscheek, and then dipping gently but firmly into his crack. He found himself leaning back into it - just a little. Dutch chuckled behind him, and a soapy dark brown hand came around to take firm hold of the erection that Benny hadn't quite noticed had become a full hard-on until Dutch touched it. Dutch leaned against him, his own erection pressed along Benny's slippery buttcrack, and hummed, deep and soft and rumbling. "Benny, looking at you this evening, I said to myself, 'This boy needs two things: a good drunk and a good fuck.' But then you got so smashed ... couldn't leave you to Flora's gals. Not their fault, but I just don't trust 'em that far. There was one guy I knew, went with a working girl when he was that toasted, and we had a tough time getting him back before they sold him up the river to Hanoi. So ... I figured I might as well take care of business myself."

"Dutch, I don't do it with --"

"Just this once, you know? Just give you a friendly helping hand, here. That's all." He stroked Benny hard, his grip slippery and tight and oh, so damn good. Benny groaned and wondered why he was objecting. Dutch was famous for how well he took care of business. Any kind of business. Dutch surely knew what he was doing. Benny pushed with his hips, thrusting up into that slick hold, and felt Dutch's hips follow behind him, rubbing himself on Benny's butt. And really, what was the difference, anyway? He was drunk, Dutch was drunk. They were comrades in crime, here in this cesspit of a town, and loyalty and keeping your word were what mattered. And right now, getting off. That too.

"That's it," murmured Dutch, low and sultry. "Come for Daddy, Benny-boy."

He could feel the heat gathering in his belly and below, swelling and stretching and expanding until it burst, and the redness behind his eyelids blanked out to a bright nothingness as he came hard, splattering the almost-dry tiles above the spigot where the spray didn't reach.

Benny whined and shuddered against Dutch's chest as the aftershocks hit, and Dutch laughed and wrapped a firm arm around him to keep him from collapsing. When Benny started to think again, he realized to his dismay that Dutch was still hard against him. "What .... what about you?"

"Oh, I figure you'll be glad to lend me a hand back - right?" Dutch released him and tugged gently on one shoulder to turn Benny around. Dutch's face looked strange and naked without the sunglasses. He pivoted himself so that their positions were reversed. "Just put your arm around me, friend. Pretend my meat is yours and go to town."

The knob at the top of Dutch's spine was right opposite Benny's mouth, framed by solid masses of muscle. Benny leaned his lips against it as he let Dutch guide his hand. Beneath the water drops, Dutch's wet but unwashed skin was still salty and smelled slightly of musk and cigarettes. Benny closed his fingers around the thick, warm shaft and started to work Dutch, hesitant at first but gaining confidence as Dutch groaned and muttered: "Yeah, Benny, do it - that's it, fuck, just like that ... so good ... oh shit, oh Christ ... !" And his release splashed against the wall at the foot of the tub, clinging and slowly dissolving in the drops of water running in streams down the tiles.

Benny gradually relaxed his grip and then let his hand drop back to Dutch's hip. Somehow it felt too cold to just pull away. Dutch sighed deeply. "Now _I_ really need a wash."

He reached for the washrag, which he'd left on the soap dish, but Benny beat him to it. "My turn, boss man."

Dutch chuckled. They took turns with the cloth and finished cleaning each other up. "I think maybe I have some shampoo somewhere, if you wanna do your hair," said Dutch. "And I need to get you a towel." He stepped out, did a cursory job of mopping himself dry, and then rummaged in the medicine cabinet. He handed Benny a couple of tiny hotel bottles of shampoo and went out of the bathroom. _Yeah, I guess Dutch doesn't exactly need shampoo,_ Benny thought as he lathered up with some expensive flowery-smelling stuff. He was surprised at how calm and contented he felt. _I just had gay sex with my boss! Shouldn't I be freaking out right about now?_

Dutch came back with another towel just about the time Benny was rinsed out. "Here you go. Make yourself at home - the bed's huge, and I left you some old gym shorts of mine. They ought to fit OK for sleeping. I'm tossing your gear in the wash - stuff from your pockets is on the dresser."

"You're going somewhere? It's the middle of the night!"

"It's two in the morning, to tell you the truth. Don't flip out, Benny-boy - I just have a piece of business or two to take care of, out front in the office."

He went out again. Benny finished up, and as an afterthought, used the washcloth to remove the rest of his come from the tiles and then rinsed it out. _Look what a good guest I am. Mom would be so proud!_ he thought sarcastically, as he hung the cloth to drip from the faucet.

Everything seemed mellow and quiet as he dried himself off. He did feel a little self-conscious walking nude out of the bathroom, but who the hell was going to see him but Dutch? The bedroom was quiet and almost dark, with the only light coming from a small lamp on one of the bedside tables. The worn sweat-shorts were soft and clean, and the mattress was firm and comfortable. Benny closed his eyes, drifting. He could hear Dutch's voice faintly, right at the limits of his perception: "yeah ... OK - tell 'em that ... our boy ... ."

 _He's got my back,_ thought Benny, and tumbled into sleep.

 


End file.
